


And if I never let you go?

by ghostofnoodlewrap



Series: Finding an ambit [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexual Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Dirty Talk, Fantasizing, Fluff, M/M, Masturbation, Trans Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Trans Male Character, debatably autochorissexual Jon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:34:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28901973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostofnoodlewrap/pseuds/ghostofnoodlewrap
Summary: What Jon fantasises about and what he’s actually comfortable with are very different things. And while he might not want Martin to touch him, or to be touched himself, there’s no reason he can’t fill Martin in on what he thinks about when he gets off.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: Finding an ambit [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2166690
Comments: 12
Kudos: 154





	And if I never let you go?

**Author's Note:**

> CW:  
> -Jon is a post-op trans man. Cock and cunt are the words used for his genitals, but they aren't all that involved in this scene.  
> -Jon is not comfortable with being touched sexually, or touching or looking at Martin's genitals.  
> -Jon has fantasises which he is not comfortable with being carried out irl  
> -Dirty talk regarding said fantasies  
> -While not explicit, it is implied some of these fantasies are dubcon on Jon's part

Martin is a comfortable seat, whether Jon is sitting or lying on him, although his lap is a little wide for Jon to straddle properly. Jon doesn’t mind the stretch that much, though, not when Martin has one hand up the back of his shirt, cool against the heat of Jon’s skin, and the other hand tangled in Jon’s hair, angling him just right to be kissed.

And kiss him Martin does. Leisurely. Jon keeps coming back in for more each time Martin breaks away to breath, his lips a little swollen and shiny from where Jon keeps licking at them.

“I missed you today.” Jon says when Martin breaks away to breathe again.

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” Martin replies dryly. His fingers scratch pleasantly under Jon’s chin, and Jon’s eyes flutter shut. “We could have met up for lunch.”

That would have been easy, really. Jon’s office is only a couple of blocks from the bookshop Martin’s started at. If they can time it so that they can commute home together (when Martin’s shifts align with Jon’s slightly more regular schedule), then they could certainly organise a joint lunch.

“I worked through mine.” Jon admits.

“Jon…” Martin groans, but not in the way he sometimes groans Jon’s name when Jon’s sat in his lap like this.

“I still ate.” Jon says. “Just at my desk while filling out paperwork.”

“What am I going to do with you?” Martin says.

“Work that out later. You should be kissing me now.” 

Jon reels him back in, licking Martin’s mouth open until their tongues meet and slide over each other. Martin’s breath puffs unsteadily from his nose across Jon’s cheek. Jon strokes his fingers across Martin’s cheek, feeling the beginnings of his five-O-clock shadow. The skin is dry and Jon is pleased that he can feel the heat of Martin’s blush.

“You need to moisturise.” Jon says against Martin’s lips.

“I’ll bear that in mind.” Martin says.

“I didn’t moisturise and my nipples fell off.” Jon says.

Martin pulls away, because they’re both laughing too hard to carry on. “Somehow, I don’t think - God Jon.” He breaks into peals of laughter again. “I don’t think my face is going to fall off because I didn’t moisturise it enough.”

“You never know.” Jon says.

“Then I’ll have you kiss it back on for me.” Martin says.

“Gladly.” Jon replies, and he leans back in to take Martin’s mouth again.

This time it’s Jon who breaks away, nipping at Martin’s lower lip as he shifts to a more comfortable position. Martin groans in that other manner at that, and Jon’s new position has something firm poking him in the thigh.

He knows that’s not Martin’s phone. Or his wallet. Jon shifts back a little, so that he’s not touching it, but it’s too late. He knows Martin knows he felt it.

“Sorry.” Both of them say at the same time.

“Maybe I should go…” Martin says, but he’s reluctant to move Jon off his lap. His hands come to Jon’s hips, but do not push. In fact, they curl into Jon’s flesh, possessive.

“Stay.” Jon says.

“I guess I can live with it a little longer, although you might want to get off my lap altogether.” Martin says.

“Do I have to?” Jon says.

“It might be for the best.” Martin replies.

“I don’t mind if you…”

“I thought you wanted me to stay.” Martin says. His fingers slip just an inch or so under Jon’s clothing, like no matter what he does, he can’t quite resist the temptation of touching Jon.

“I do.” Jon says. “You can, well, you know. Here.”

“Are you sure?” Martin asks. His grip on Jon tightens ever so slightly. He sounds hopeful. He sounds like he might burst into ten thousand pieces of brightly coloured confetti at any given moment.

“I’m sure.” Jon says. “I want to kiss you and hold you, and I don’t mind if you jerk off while I do it. I’m just not going to look.”

“If you can’t even look-” Martin begins, but Jon cuts him off.

“I want to know what you sound like when you touch yourself.” He says. “I want to know what it looks like when you come.”

“Jesus…” Martin whispers.

“Martin, look at me.” Jon says. One of his hands cups Martin’s chin. The other lightly grips Martin at midthigh. Jon will not be lifting it higher than that. “I want to know you.”

He meets Martin’s lips again, and this time Martin surges up into him. It’s not the sweet, languid kiss of before. There’s heat behind it now. Heat that even Jon can feel curling in his lower guts. He doesn’t want to do anything about it now, but it will be a nice memory to come back to later, once he has some alone time.

Jon presses them together, chest to chest. He drapes himself over Martin, claws at his shoulders to bring him closer. There is, of course, a gap at their hips (has to be if he doesn’t want Martin’s erection brushing up against him), but their shins and feet still brush against each other.

“Sorry, if I’m going to…” Martin reaches a hand down between their bodies, his destination obvious.

“Yeah, do it.” Jon says. “I’m not looking.”

There’s a rustle of fabric as Martin fishes himself out. Then he lifts his hand up and gives a slobbery lick to his palm. Jon wrinkles his nose, but he supposes it’s not like there’s any lube here, and unlike Jon’s genital configuration, Martin’s not set up to make his own.

“Wait, I think I need a bit more room.” Martin says.

Jon snickers. “That big, huh?”

“Shut up.” Martin retorts. “I just need the room to move.”

“Should I get off you altogether?” Jon asks. He’s not surprised at how disappointed he sounds. Sitting in Martin’s lap really is quite enjoyable.

Scooting back much further would risk Jon pitching back over Martin’s knees. Plus, it’s not as comfy as his plush thighs. And he can’t lie on top of Martin without touching things he doesn’t want to touch (or getting in the way.). Underneath Martin is an option, but it would be so easy to feel trapped there.

Jon’s had fantasies of Martin pinning him down in that sort of position, but he has no desire to actually make them a reality. They’re just fun to play on the inside of his head, where the Jon in there can enjoy sexual contact with another human being.

“Maybe just…” Martin picks him up by the hips and Jon squeaks as Martin manhandles him.

It’s an acceptable position he ends up in, though. Straddled over just one of Martin’s thighs inside of both of them. He can feel Martin’s knuckles skate over his thigh as Martin strokes himself. It’s nice - not so much contact that it makes Jon queasy, while still being intimate.

Martin’s thigh presses in nice and high between Jon’s legs. Jon rolls his hips experimentally, just to see what it would feel like and there’s the expected answering pang of heat that runs through him at the action. Nice enough. He hums and does it again. Experimentation goes hand in hand with repetition. Yeah, it’s not too bad. Maybe a little too much, it’s not like he’s expecting to get off until much later today, when all this want has had time to simmer.

“Oh.” Martin says. “Are you…”

“Just feels nice.” Jon says. “I’m not going to get off now, but I’ll think about this when I take care of myself later.”

“You think about me?” Martin squeaks. The hand on his cock stills in surprise.

“All the time.” Jon says.

“I know. But when you…” Martin doesn’t manage a coherent sentence, because halfway through Jon leans down and bites at his neck.

“I think about you when I touch myself.” Jon confirms, the words whispered against Martin’s neck. Then he pulls away. “It’s just inside my head, though. Only a fantasy. I’m not interested in you actually, y’know, doing anything to me.”

“I know.” Martin says. His voice is slightly strained. “Will you tell me what I do in these fantasies?”

“I’m not sure you’d like fantasy Martin.” Jon admits. “He can be… forceful.”

“What does he do?” Martin asks, his voice a little huskier this time.

“He holds me down.” Jon says in a hurried whisper. “Pins me up against the shower wall or down into the bed. Then he wrenches my legs open.”

“Do I have enough hands for that?” Martin asks.

“It’s a fantasy. You have as many hands as I want you to have.” Jon says. “Don’t poke holes in it.”

Martin’s earlobe is right there, so Jon stretches out with his neck so that he can take it lightly between his teeth. Then he begins to kiss down the column of Martin’s throat.

“Sorry, sorry.” Martin says, his voice unsteady. Jon can feel his knuckles brushing up against his thigh again, so Martin must have resumed stroking himself. “Do I, I mean, where do I touch you?”

“You hold me down and make me take you.” Jon says. “You tell me I must want it, really, because of how wet I am.”

“Wet? I thought-”

“I kept my cunt when I got metoidioplasty.” Jon says. “I like putting things in it too much. I like to fill myself up with a thick toy and pretend it’s your cock.”

“God Jon.” Martin cries. He’s beginning to sound wrecked. Jon idly wonders how much longer he can hold on for.

“I never think I can take all of you, but you just hold me down and push in deeper and deeper until your hips meet mine. It’s so much I can hardly handle it, and you take my cock between your fingers and jerk me off until I’m screaming and coming on your cock.”

“Christ…” Martin says.

He’s red-faced, although Jon probably is too. There’s sweat beading at Martin’s brow, and Jon brushes it away before meeting Martin in another hungry kiss.

“It’s just a fantasy though, right?” Martin says when they break apart.

“Yes.” Jon confirms. “Sorry love.”

“Are you, I mean - _God_ Jon.” Martin says. “Does this still turn you on?”

There is heat between Jon’s legs, and curling through other parts of his body too. Some of that might be fondness though. It’s sometimes hard to tell apart. He really does love Martin, and watching him come apart at Jon’s words has been very enjoyable.

Instead of answering with words, Jon slides a hand under the waistband of his trousers and into his underwear. It’s not jerking off in front of Martin, not quite, so it doesn’t feel too wrong-squeamish. Although he can’t say he’d be happy sitting with his hand down here for too long. He ignores his half-hard cock and drips lower.

Jon isn’t all that wet, really. Although whether that’s the fault of HRT or the fact that his arousal isn’t banked as high as Martin’s is anyone’s guess. There’s enough slick to coat a couple of fingers though, as he swipes them across his entrance, shivering slightly at the touch.

Then he withdraws his hand and lifts it up to smear that sticky wet across Martin’s lips.

Martin makes a noise that Jon will cherish later. “Please.” He says, with Jon’s fingers on his lips.

Jon pushes his fingers into Martin’s mouth and across the slick pad of his tongue. Lets Martin taste the sweet tang on his fingers. Then his lips seal around Jon’s fingers and he begins to suck.

“Go on, love,” Jon says, “Come for me.”

Martin makes another of those noises as he comes, then he goes abruptly quiet. Then his lips crash into Jon’s in a fierce kiss. Jon has to stop himself from laughing so that he can join him in it. Tasting his own fluids on Martin’s tongue is a little strange, but not wholly unpleasant.

“Thank you.” Martin says after he breaks away. “I mean, is it okay to say thank you for that?”

“You can say thank you.” Jon replies. “You’re welcome.”

“Was that okay?” Martin asks.

Jon smiles. He brushes some of Martin’s sweaty curls away from his forehead and looks at the other man fondly. “That was perfect, my love.” Jon says. “I guess I don’t need to ask if you enjoyed that?”

“I did.” Martin confirms. “If you ever feel like doing that again…”

“Just ask me if you want to.”

“I should probably put myself away, I guess?” Martin says. He doesn’t wait for Jon’s answer, just reaches down to tuck his cock back in. “Oh, um. So Jon, I may have got a little you know right on your…”

“You what?” Jon exclaims.

He looks down. Thankfully Martin is no longer, ah, exposed. But there is a streak of sticky whitish fluid on the thigh of Jon’s trousers. Jon’s face twists in disgust.

“Sorry, let me- um…” Martin reaches for the streak to wipe it away before he realises his hand is also covered in come.

“Don’t bother.” Jon says. “It is unclean forever now. I’ll go change.”

“Um, will you be back soon, or…?” Martin asks. “Sorry, I can get clingy afterwards.”

“I’ll be back soon.” Jon confirms as he stands up. “I like the idea of being close to you, having you touch me, for a while longer.”

“Oh.” Martin says. “Not like _that_ , though, right?”

“I’ll admit I’m a little riled up.” Jon says. That’s true. He squeezes his legs together to feel a pang of heat. “But I like to let it simmer for a while. A little delayed gratification goes a long way. And I’ll be desperate for it later.”

“But you don’t need anything now.” Martin says. “Aside from a change of trousers, that is.”

“Oh, my sweet little Martin,” Jon says. “I’m also going to put a vibrator on charge for later.”

And with that parting remark, he leaves Martin, mouth gaping and still covered with his own liberal splatterings of come, and walks into the bedroom.


End file.
